Despite
having been so young, Miroku clearly remembers the day his life
changed.

It
was an innocent question, or so he believed. His father had just a
bear youkai, and was forced to use the Kazaana in front of his son,
as he had done in a few occassions.

However,
today... today Miroku wanted to understand.

Wanted
to know.

How
was a child supposed to understand that ignorance was bliss?

"Father?
Where did you get the Kazaana?"

His
father, normally so serene and gentle, became violently disturbed,
actually spinning abruptly to face his son. His face was one that
Miroku could never forget, full of suffering and pain, and even
tears.

After
all, he could see just where his own son's life would lead.

To
the grave.

"It's
a very long story Miroku. Perhaps we should find a place to rest
first." He replied softly, a sort of cold mask enveloping his face.

Disturbed
by his father's reaction to the question, Miroku followed silently.

After
the usual line and pointless exorcism, his father sat the two of them
in a room, closed the doors, and left only one candle burning.

His
father's face was that same stony mask, but those eyes were full of
sorrow.

Miroku
found himself afraid.

"My
son... the Kazaana is a curse, placed upon our family by a demon
named Naraku." The tale was spun, the deeds of the past unveiled.
And with each word, a pit of fear grew in Miroku's stomach,
festering and twisting and churning, a disease that spread throughout
his body.

But
the finale of the story hit Miroku the hardest.

"And
if I fail in this task, Miroku... the Kazaana will pass to you, and
the task of defeating Naraku and freeing our family from this
wretched fate as well."

The
boy could not understand.

What
child is ready to know that he will die within a the next two
decades? Or that his father would die within the next year or so?

His
father's eyes were sad, and the tears flowed freely. "I am so
sorry my boy." He whispered quietly, embracing his son. "I wish
it could be some other way." His father pulled back, his face
twisted into a far too cheerful smile, though his eyes remained sad.

"However,
this gives you a valid reason to try and get every woman you can, my
boy. The family line must continue on, after all." He laughed, a
tad forced, and patted his son on the back.

At
his son's still too serious look, his father looked at him with a
serenity that Miroku was jealous of. "My son, one day Naraku will
be brought to justice. And someone with our blood will be there to do
it. One day."

And
on that day, Miroku made a vow to never have to say these words to
his own son.

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